


Life in the Wards

by AntiTerraFirma



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Multiple Partners, Post-Reaper War, Rebuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 08:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16301657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntiTerraFirma/pseuds/AntiTerraFirma
Summary: Dehir is a simple Batarian man, only wanting to work, live the life a peaceful family man, as well as maybe have a child or two with his wife. Unfortunately, life on the citadel isn't easy in the aftermath of the reaper war. Looking for work in the shoddiest and poorly built part of the citadel, he meets a carpenter that works to build her business despite the horrid conditions, and together they work to make life better for each other.





	Life in the Wards

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, I thought that I would enjoy reading a bit about a Batarian - as they seem to get a little of the short end of the stick in the ME series. I mean, first to get invaded, never had a spot on the Normandy, always portrayed as slavers and pirates... I wondered what it would be like to see a nicer side. I had this story tucked away for years, so I'm glad I'm finally living up to the Anti-TerraFirma namesake! Yay aliens x humans!

            “Hey Dehir; we heard about what happened. We are so sorry...”

            A pit was forming in Dehir's stomach – but whether it was from hunger or fear was uncertain.

He looked at his fellow Batarians and sighed, tilting his head to the left in respect.

            “And what of our wife? Did she hear about - ?”

            “She heard. Nathreen is enraged; as you'd expect. Losing your job is not something someone from her caste has any sympathy for.”

            “Yeah, Dehir. She even threw your picture against a wall. The word among the other husbands is to not let you back through the door.”

            Dehir met his brother's eyes and shuddered. This was not the place to be having this conversation. People bustled around, shouting and bargaining at every vendor's store, and though this was the type of place that people looked down or away from you, they kept their ears very much open.

            Dragging his brothers down an empty alleyway, he finally found a place that didn't seem to be overwhelmingly claustrophobic. Only the clacking of a nearby keeper sounded this darkened street.

            “Perhaps... If I remind Nathreen that we live on the citadel now, and that things are different, maybe she'll see reason?”  
            “ Dehir, my brother, many things that we _do on_ the citadel are _banned on_ the citadel -”

            “Yeah, we pay our servants just enough – only so we don't get ratted out -”

            “We pretend to obey their 'non-caste' system -”

            “And even our marriage to our wife would be brought to bear...”

            “Reminding Nathreen of all of this would be catastrophic for you...”

            Dehir knew what they meant. Divorce. He was sure that though these two fellow husbands had warned him not to come home, they would certainly not mind him being removed from favor.

            He saw the world shiver as his vision spasmed and his words stuck in the barrel of his chest. How did it come to this? He used to be her first husband; Hell they left the Hedgemony together!

            “I'm going to be sick...”

            “We're sorry my friend. Find another job before you lock eyes with our wife, and she may just take you back in.”

            “Thank you... for the warning. I'll come home as soon as I can.”

 

 

* * *

 

            Two weeks later, and he found himself on that same street, but with no sign of his “brothers”. His omni-tool was dead and he could barely siphon enough energy from someone's outlet before he was caught. He kept his eyes low, so as not to look at anyone, but there were fewer people on the street anyway. Most vendors had closed now that the Citadel's night cycle had started. If this place weren't so full of thugs no doubt there would be more life on the street.

            He had eaten at the nearby shelters when they had food left after feeding the homeless Humans, and when he could find a spot, he slept on the harsh metal slabs of the wards. He couldn't go back home, but as time dragged on it seemed like he couldn't go forward either.

            Dehir put his hands in the lining of his pockets, the lining of which growing ever so slightly threadbare . His feet wandered aimlessly, soles of his feet screaming at him to sit down.   

            Should he take a merc job? He was better than that- surely? But no one here would recognize his higher caste.

             But with no _legal_ experience to speak of he couldn't get any work.

            _Should I go to Omega?_

             He lurched momentarily at the thought. Tch, go to Omega and leave his wife and brothers? Ha!

            A whimper reached his ears and for a moment, Dehir was suddenly seized by a strange form of fear. It sounded so pitiful, just for a second, that he was sure that whatever creature created it, didn't belong here in the bad part of the most “civilized place in the galaxy”.

            But then he saw that the person that was making noises was a Human, and the illusion shattered.

            When Dehir looked up, it was a brazen act of violence that filled his vision. A female had been pinned against the edifice of a building, strangely built pieces of furniture only half brought inside from the street. Her face was not visible, because it was smashed against the metal, and he was sure that pointy Human nose was in much pain. A hand was wrenched in long black hair, her attacker being another Batarian. A little teenage shithead from a low caste family by the look of him.

            “You need to finish making payments Rhana, because danger lurks here in the wards.” Dehir began to move, then began to move faster when he saw a hand disappear inside her shirt. “Your old man knew this simple truth; why can't you grasp the same?”

            Tapping the boy on the shoulder, then grabbing the little piss ant and wrenching him around, Dehir looked him in the eyes, and grit his teeth at him. The boy hadn't let go  of the Humans hair, even as she pushed herself off of the grey metal wall. Tilting his head to the right at Dehir, the boy smiled.

            The disrespectful youth of today!

            “Just what the hell are you doing boy?! Go home, your father must be worried sick about you.”

            “I'm playing with the Human. You can have her once I'm done -”

            Dehir whipped his fist into the boy's face quicker than he had time to react. To suggest that he'd want to have the Human! This sick child needed his ass beat.

            The boy reeled back and clutched his bleeding lips. No doubt he'd bit through them – sharp teeth would do that to ya'.

            “What the fuck?! Why do you defend this lesser species?!”  
            _Oh that's right – guess I did save her. Well I'm a hero now I suppose._

            “Because watching you molest the female in public is disgusting! Seriously – can't you fuck some young casteless? You need to realize who your betters are, boy.”

            “Fuck you old man!” He spat on the Human's shirt and ran off saying, “I'll be back woman!”

            The nerve of that child! Old man -  he was only thirty six dammit! He didn't even have creases by his eyes yet!

            “can you believe that brat?! So why was he -”

            A sob came from the female – Rhana – as she put her  hands over her face. He quickly went over his body language to see if he'd offended her. Shoulders squared, positioned far enough away to be non-threatening but close enough to be interested... one hand in his pockets. Damn! He was as bad as the kid -

            “Thank you! I'm so sorry for crying...”

            He narrowed his brow in confusion. Do Humans try not to cry or something?

            “I...” She took a deep breath and lifted her hand to wipe her face. At lest that's what he figured her actions to mean, because surely she wasn't meaning to insult his family with that body language.

            “Thank you sir. May I ask your name?” He noticed that her eyes were quite dark for a human, and she had further lined her eyes with a black substance, now smeared and running down her cheeks.

            “It's Dehir. You are Rhana, correct?” She nodded.

            “Yes. I'm sorry you had to see that. I was intending to pay the protection money – honest... Because I live here alone and...” Rhana's face picked up a touch of red and went rigid. “Please forget you heard that.”  She picked up a piece of smooth cloth off the ground and then wiped her face with it. Then after she wrapped her hair in it and shuffled her feet. “ So um...is there any way I can help repay you for that?” She looked and tilted her head down. He knew the sign of submission in Humans.

            He leaned against a wooden... thing... then sighed. This Human was a meek little wispy thing. There wasn't anythin -

            Perhaps it was desperation that made him consider it? Maybe he missed the touch of his wife? But before he knew it, the words were out of his mouth.

            “Don't pay that small child protection money. He and whatever little gang's he runs with are as nothing to me.”

            “What - ?”

            “Pay me instead. I will work for you as a bodyguard, and keep you and your shop safe.”

            It must have been a form of madness taking him, because the more he thought about it – the more it seemed like a good idea. It didn't really matter that his boss was Human in that moment.

            “Matter of fact, I could be here as much or as little as possible. I'm also a Batarian and a male, so people generally tend to find me intimidating. No one would dare to take advantage of you while I'm here!”

            He saw her brown eyes water up again as she stood still as stone. It was unnerving to see no movement from someone, but then he noticed it – the movement of this female was mostly in the face. Her mouth had opened slightly then closed, as her lips formed a thin-ish line. Finally, with a slight twitch of a corner of her mouth and eyes, he saw the birth of a smile.

            “When can you start?”

           

* * *

 

 

   He looked like an angel. A four eyed, pointy toothed, green skinned angel. As she saw his face relax in relief, Rhana smiled fully.

            She turned to let him in her door and he glanced at her. Almost begrudgingly, he went in first. Leading him past pieces of her works, and a few rows of stacked paints,stains and tools, she went up the stairs and turned the door.

            “This is a large space for the citadel. It is nice.” His face seemed totally impassive, but his body twitched, almost like a live wire. Rhana could tell that he was a hyper one.

            The part of her home that was actually lived in was quite small, but warm and rich, with hues of red and violet. “Thank you very much. I... I am glad you like it. My husband's family has owned it for years.”

            “OH!” Dehir had stopped in his tracks. “I didn't mean to enter your house without introducing myself to your husband.”

            Rhana smiled. Going to her desk, she lifted up a digital frame. She handed to him and he looked at her with the most confused air about him that Rhana'd ever seen.

            “Umm... is this a cultural thing or -?”

            “Adi was my husband. He passed away a few years ago – so please don't worry about offending anyone.”

            Rhana was taken aback when Dehir quickly pushed it back into her hands and shoved his hands into his pockets. She hoped dearly that she hadn't offended him, but when he gave her a scathing glare she flinched backwards and quickly took her seat, putting her husband's picture down as well.

            It was then that Rhana realized just whom – or rather what she was talking too. Batarians placed a penultimate importance on body language; she _had_ offended him!

            “Dehir, I'm so sorry if I offended you. I just remembered that your species has a fondness for body language. I just wanted to let you know that if I do something offensive please let me know, and I'll try to correct myself.”

            Shock, apparently, was quite obvious across both their species. “I'm surprised you noticed. I'm not … really offended its just... a bad sign to look into the eyes of a dead man for too long. It's an old Batarian superstition.”

            “Oh! I am sorry. I had no idea, I'd only meant to show you how handsome he looked in that picture.” She'd smiled, but noticed the look of confusion on his face. Apparently there were huge cultural barriers they'd need to break through if he were to do his job properly. She only hoped that she could help him learn.

            “Please take a seat. I'm not sure what exactly I should...” Dehir sat down as she found a file on her computer. “Here they are! It's been a long time since we've employed anyone...”

            She looked at him as he stared patiently at her. It still made her feel a tad nervous under his gaze. “So, I have to warn you, I do open six days a week, and I need you here to protect the store from when it opens to when I close. Umm... can you handle that sir?”

            His eyes narrowed at her. “That was offensive, but yes I can.”

            “Oh no – already?”

            His expression softened. “Yes. You tilted your head to the right – that's just a sign of disrespect among my species. Does it mean something different to Humans?”

            She nodded. “Yeah. It usually denotes curiosity. I had no idea.”

            “So that's why Humans always seem so rude to us!” Dehir looked for all the world like he'd solved a mystery. He sat there and nodded.

            Then he slowly tilted his head, “So this doesn't offend you then?”

            “Not in the slightest Dehir.”

            He grinned, pointed teeth gleaming in the low lights of her home. She knew they should be intimidating, but for some reason she could only think of how straight they were. The absurdness of her brain was something she found herself smiling at.

            With matching expressions on their faces, Dehir spoke, “I can handle that just fine. Hell seven days a week even – just so long as I have time enough to sleep.”

            “Hmm I should suspect you will of course. I open at six, according to Citadel time. I close at six as well. As for your job description, I would ask only that you help make sure no one attacks me, my shop, and if you can, try to keep thieves and harassers away.”

            “Not a problem – for any of it.”

            Rhana sent him a copy of the papers and he looked up and tilted his shoulders back. “Um, this is a bit of an embarrassment, but I have no charge for my omni-tool. I can't access the papers...”

            “Uh.... Wait! I can...”  ruffling through a pile of papers in a drawer, she produced a few old looking paper documents.

            “Just sign here on these papers, and here is a copy for you to take home.”

            He seemed unused to writing on normal paper, and Rhana suspected that if she didn't have her profession, she may be in the same way as him.

            Suddenly, he stood, eyes locked in on a couple of her Zafu cushions, a small bit of fluff rumbling a purr as it woke.

            “Oh that's just Taj. He's such a cute little cat isn't he?” Rhana giggled but Dehir growled.

            “This _thing is insulting my family!_ ” Rhana smiled as Taj took his paw, licked his paw and rubbed at his eyes after a nice nap.

            “That! That right there! Hey fuck your mother too animal!”

            Rhana laughed outright – she had a feeling about this person, and it was a good one.

 


End file.
